Pleasurists is your round-up of the adult product reviews that came out in the last seven days from bloggers all around the sex blogosphere. Did you miss Pleasurists #25? Read it all here. Do you have a review for Pleasurists #27? Submit it here before Sunday April 26th at 11:59pm PST. Please re-post this list on your own blog if listed.

Since I’ve got to know you so deeply I’ve come (literally) to see past (literally) your slightly gimmicky clear case, and I’ve seen the real you; the so open, so accepting, and so soft moulded gel insert whose embrace I could never grow tired of – especially when it’s been submerged in hot tap water and coated with my favourite lube.

Editor’s Note: Though technically this review went up quite some time ago, but it was submitted with a note recognizing that and asking for it to be included anyway. I’m not super strict on the posting rules as long as people aren’t giving me twenty reviews from the last few months to put in the issue, but I digress. I thought The review was so well done and quite unique so I not only had to include it but I had to highlight it for you all to read as well!

Have I left you unsatisfied? Me too. Believe me, what I’ve written below is certainly not 24 hours of exploration. There’s a lot more I’d like to do with Jacques. I’ll tell you all about it soon.

But for now I’d like to introduce you to my latest conquest. The insatiably sexy Drew. Drew is responsible for several orgasms on my part over the last few nights. He’s given me endless stimulation and pleasure, yet asks for so little in return. Drew doesn’t seem to mind when I get a little loud. When I moan and writhe and touch myself. In fact, he demands it.

You see Drew and I weren’t alone in our encounters together. Drew introduced me to Artemis.Are you all familiar with the Goddess Artemis? She was the goddess of fertility, and the hunt. And what does she hunt for? Artemis is on the prowl for heat and wetness and touching and sensuality. Aren’t all hunters sensual in a way? Stalking their prey – watching every move – observing their desires and eventually moving in for the kill?

Wondering what Artemis looks like?

You see my darling Drew is with Eden Fantasys (they of the supremely diverse adult toy collection). And he was kind enough to send me Artemis (an awesomely fun looking sex toy that he totally let me choose!) to try out and see whether she can get me all hot and bothered. And did she ever! I know it’s kind of gauche to kiss and tell, but I know that Artemis won’t mind.

The good, the bad and the sexy:

First of all – don’t mind the box. It demands four triple A batteries. So I of course tore apart some remote controls rather than wait until the next day to give her a test drive. But by triple A – they actually meant double A. Fortunately, I had those in abundance. However, it took me two scraped knuckles and a couple of broken nails to actually get the batteries in. Artemis was starting to look like a high maintenance girlfriend.

However, we moved into the bedroom, as I was determined to let Artemis prove that she was worth the cost of a manicure. So, I got naked and turned her on. And wow! Did she respond. Loudly. If discretion is what you’re looking for, Artemis is not the way to go. I think my neighbours could hear her. But since I’m a single girl, living alone – what do I care? A little noise wasn’t going to deter me.

Artemis has two parts to her. A clit stimulator and a rotating head. And as you can see from the photo, she has lots of little spindles all over her. She’s soft enough to be comfortable, and yet hard enough to be satisfying. Both of these parts have separate controls and can move faster, slower, simultaneously or alone.

Now perhaps it’s just me, but there is no way that I could use this for penetration. Call me a lightweight, but it was just too wide. That being said though, I still loved it. The rotating head creates an “alive” feeling that you can’t get from other vibes with shafts that you have to thrust in and out manually. At least this creates stimulation on it’s own. Especially with all the little spindles – even with you moving it, it’s still creating motion itself that sometimes hits unexpected places. So though I’m claiming it’s too big for thrusting, I still loved what it did for me.

So that being said, the clit stiumlator becomes a whole separate thing. Because I’m not using the shaft for penetration, if I’m using the clit stiumlator on my clit- the head is kind of just rotating somewhere further back- but not doing as much as it should. I almost found the clit stimulator to be a detail (although a nice one, as again- the little spindles are fun). The head itself can be used to stiumlate the clit too in a more firm way.

On the whole? I would give this 3 stars out of 5. Artemis is a fun date, but she didn’t do as much for me as I would have hoped.

Perhaps Drew would like to hand deliver my next plaything for testing??

Other women want him. I’ve seen it the way they flirt with him and talk about him. They intentionally twist his words into innuendos. They brag when they have the opportunity to see and touch him.

What makes him so extraordinary? What is it about the man that makes me fantasize about meeting and seducing him?

How is it possible that the most innocent words on a screen can make me hot and wet? He scarcely knows I exist save for the odd blog comment and twitter reply. And yet I want him.

He writes nothing more than the most general aspects of his daily life. Nothing suggestive. he keeps his personal life private. But his words touch me. Cerebrally? Sometimes. Like a jolt between the legs? Often, upon later reflection of him.

So many blog meetings to choose from. The opportunity to be in the same place as him exists. And then? Would I play the shrinking violet or the smoldering temptress? So easy to write the temptress. Easier still to be the violet. A lack of confidence consumes me. This blog claims to be about sex, and yet the authoress has none. A brief stint, then simply resorting to theory and reminiscences.

What would I like to do with him? I think one full day and night would suffice. 24 hours to know him. To take my delicious time with every delicious inch offered.

The first touch- exquisitely prolonged, before a shred of clothing has been removed. A hand? A wrist? Running a finger down the nape of his neck? Teasing my nails through his hair? Breathing in his ear and flicking my tongue across his earlobe?

The unbuttoning his shirt one at a time – not tearing it off in the heat of passion, but slowly revealing more skin in tiny increments. Touching his chest a little bit more with each successive opening until it is finally off altogether, and he stands there exposed. Open to my explorations. With my hands lightly touching his back, his ribs, his nipples. My nails grazing and teasingly scratching.

My lips long to taste every inch of him. Tongue and teeth tease him while his nipples get hard and hot. Licking along his clavicle, feeling him gasp and reaching to touch me and pull me in closer.

To kiss him long and deep while massaging his shoulders and back. The finally pushing him onto the bed, onto his back so I can straddle him and run my tongue down his ribs and stomach. Further and further down towards his belt.

I would take off my blouse, slowly. Letting him have time to enjoy the reveal. Then off with my bra so I can lean over – running my breasts down his chest. My nipples getting harder and practically begging to be touched and sucked.

To feel him grown harder beneath me, I would lean over to kiss him again – flesh against flesh- our legs entwining together. Our tongues exploring each others’ and his hands reaching up to grip my back and bury themselves in my hair. Feeling him pull my head back and my back arching in response- our pelvises grinding against each other.

For the moment, that’s all that I would need. Naked torsos, lips, tongues and teeth. Hands touching and massaging. Legs opening to each other. Groins pressed up together, getting harder, wetter and hotter. This moment alone can be dragged on for hours – there’s no need to rush at all…

I’m not an ass person. I’ve never been able to understand it when my girlfriends would comment about a man’s butt. I could analyze that butt quite objectively and see absolutely nothing comment-worthy about it, or any other specimen for that matter.

And heaven help any person who grabbed, pinched, clapped or in any other way acknowledged my posterior. No good can come of it. I can’t explain it. Everyone has a thing, and I guess that’s mine.

So what would be my feature of choice on a man? If I had to pick one part of their body to admire and create lust-filled fantasies about? It would be their hands. I can’t imagine finding any part of the body more erotic or arousing.

What other part of the anatomy can bring on such a variety of sensations? And the fact that there’s two of them – well, there’s a reason the expression “double the pleasure” exists.

A single finger tracing up your ribs or spine can cause shivers to erupt throughout the entire body… A palm cupping a breast or fingers pinching a nipple…One hand tickling behind the knee, while the other winds itself in your hair, pulling your head back and making your back arch…A thumb grazing your inner thigh, then gripping your leg and pulling it up over his hip…

Strong large hands- each one by itself having the ability to bind both of my wrists, pinning them behind my back or over my head – leaving the other free to rub my clit and feel the resulting heat and wetness.

A man can bring me to orgasm with his hands alone. Could I truly say that about his tongue or penis? Can they create the same results without the aid of any other body part? Without the aid of fingers or teeth?

Well, OK maybe. If he’s doing it right. But if I had to choose? It’s still all about the hands…

I may never experience the pleasure of a plush-carpeted orgy, but I will confess to once having sex in a room with other people in it.

Back in my University years, I had a friend who went to graduate school in the US. One weekend my boyfriend and I picked up her boyfriend for a road trip down there. Being the cheap kids that we were, we of course all shared the same room. Off and on we had separated from each other all weekend. My boyfriend and I found ourselves alone in the room for a while.

What is it about hotels that make one automatically frisky? Is it the novelty? The fact that so many others had had sex in that same room? In that same bed? Countless other naked strangers had found the same allure in that cheap room. Seduced by the talentless artwork and barely tolerable linens.

How many other college girlfriends teasingly rubbed their boyfriends’ cocks through their jeans there? How many sips of cheap wine had induced adolescent girls to strip off their tops and pinch their own nipples temptingly as their boyfriends grew hard in appreciation of the show?

The ghosts of a thousand sexual encounters encouraged us as we lay on the bed half-dressed, his fingers in my panties rubbing my clit while I nibbled on his earlobe and reached to unfasten his belt.

But he stopped me. The thought that the other couple could walk in at any moment didn’t energize him with the same level of dangerous eroticism that it did me. The heightened excitement in the possibility of getting caught that heated my blood and quickened my breath only made him nervous.

We readjusted out clothes, and as it happened, the other couple did walk in a few minutes later. We all watched a movie together then settled down to sleep.

But our previous activities didn’t leave my boyfriend completely untouched. I was content to go to sleep, but he had other ideas. While the thought of being walked in on a few hours earlier turned him off, the thought of fucking me with another couple just a few feet away in the bed next to us seemed to create the opposite reaction.

It suddenly struck me as unfathomable that such a scenario had not occurred thousands of times before. Two couples sharing a hotel room. Two double beds. How could it be possible that not once before in that very room had both couples not simultaneously succumbed to temptation?

That never before had two young girls found themselves mirroring each other in the same sensual movements? How erotic would they find it – to glance over and see another woman straddling her boyfriend the same as her? To begin unconsciously grinding her hips in the same rhythm as the other. To arch their backs at the same moment. To have both men’s cocks thrusting into their wet cunts at the same time, with the same movements.

Would the men find it equally arousing, or would they become competitive? Which one could make their partner moan louder? Orgasm faster? Who could last longer?

Would the girls begin looking at each other differently? Would the sexually charged current in the air cause them to become curious? Would they suddenly long to touch the other’s breasts? Taste each other’s tongues? Pull each other’s hair and bit the other’s nipples?

Of course none of this happened that night. As it became clear to me what my boyfriend had in mind, my only concern was stealth and quiet. I think my partner took perverse pleasure in how hard it was for me to remain silent.

I slung my leg over his, and felt him enter me – his thrusts were hard but short as we attempted to prevent the bed from betraying our movement. I glanced over and whispered that I thought that the other couple’s breathing implied they were asleep. He grew more bold and dirty- thrusting harder and faster while I bit his shoulder in an attempt to release what I couldn’t vocalize.

For all I knew the other couple was doing the same thing in the pitch blackness a few feet away. Perhaps they weren’t asleep at all, both of them with their underwear bunched around their ankles like mine and my partners. Perhaps he was under the covers plunging his fingers in and out of her wet pussy. Maybe he was biting her nipples and rubbing his hard cock against her cunt in equally limited movements like ours, while she clutched the blankets and buried her face against her pillow.

Perhaps her boyfriend was fucking her even as mine was thrusting into me. I know that my encounter was intense but brief. The situation allowed for limited creativity and eventually the need for discretion caused us to finish up quickly.